


So It Goes

by clarityhiding



Series: Cats, Birds, Bats, and the Occasional Spoiler [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dick Grayson is Batman, JayTim Week 2018, M/M, Tim Drake is Catlad, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, mention of canon temporary character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-22 23:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16607612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarityhiding/pseuds/clarityhiding
Summary: He's pretty sure Batman doesn't know about the increasingly heated glances Stray and Redwing have been sharing since the latter shed the loose tunic and adopted a skintight suit. Of course, Redwing hasn't had much time for Stray lately. It's... worrying.





	So It Goes

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 2: Time Travel/Heist of JayTim Week! This _technically_ covers both? Sort of? Yeah...
> 
> The get-together fic for my Stray AU! Also beta'd by chibi_nightowl, because she's a star.

He's minding his own business, scoping out an auction house in the Diamond District from the roof of a neighboring building when Batman lands beside him. "Don't you have better things to do than bother innocent citizens who just want to take a stroll in the cool night air?"

"Stray," Batman says, trying to pitch his voice darker, deeper, more menacing, but Stray's been dealing with these Bats for far too long now to actually feel all that threatened. "We need to talk."

"I'll say we do. You should go back to the other costume. All that grey just makes your skin look sallow. Plus, if I'm honest, I'm rather attached to the fingerstripes." He adjusts the settings on his goggles, zooming in on the auction house's rooftop access. It looks like a pretty simple lock, which means there's probably some supposedly state-of-the-art security system that'll need—

"It's about Redwing," Batman says, effectively derailing Stray's train of thought with just one word. Name. Whatever.

He's pretty sure Batman doesn't know about the increasingly heated glances Stray and Redwing have been sharing since the latter shed the loose tunic last year and adopted a skintight suit that really doesn't leave much to Stray's very active imagination. Of course, that was before the mess that went down with Darkseid, back when this Batman was wearing a very different costume. Redwing hasn't had much time for glances lately. When it comes down to it, he hasn't had much time for Stray, period. It's… worrying.

Against his better judgement, Stray taps the button to change his goggles back to default settings, then turns to Batman. "What about him?"

"Have you spoken to him lately? I know you two are friends, and I just thought…" Batman trails off, worry evident on his face in ways that his predecessor never would have allowed it. "He hasn't taken the whole thing very well."

"You did pass on the red and green without even asking him first," Stray reminds him, because the one time he's run into Redwing in recent days, that was all the vigilante could talk about, fuming and betrayed. He tried to comfort his friend, but it was hard when he also had to pretend he didn't know that a lot of Redwing's distress stemmed not from the new Robin, but from having recently lost his father. Stray wasn't supposed to know just what Batman—the _old_ Batman—was to the men who were once his Robins.

"It's just— He's not acting rationally. He has this crazy idea that Batman is still alive and he won't listen to me, to Oracle, to Starfire. We've all tried, but he's fixated liked a dog with a bone and I was just hoping…" Batman sighs.

It's a little distressing that Batman has such a short list of people Redwing will listen to, but then the second Robin has never been very good at opening up to anyone. Still, who Batman _doesn't_ mention is just as telling in its own way. Straightening out of his crouch and stretching out the kinks in his spine, Stray rolls his shoulders in a shrug. "I guess I could have a word with him. Loss can be a difficult thing to deal with, I know."

Batman startles. "Oh really? Who have you—"

"And Batman?" Stray interrupts, effectively nipping that line of questioning at the bud. "If you really want my help with this, you won't try and follow me. Or question my methods." And then he's running, leaping, springing from roof to roof, leaving Batman far behind.

Stray knows a lot about loss and legacy, more than the Bats will ever know if he can help it. Which, just as well, really, because had Batman known, he surely never would've approached him to help his brother.

 

* * *

 

Jason's about got the door open when a throat clears behind him. He doesn't jump, but only because there can't be more than three people in this city who could possibly get the drop on him, and at least two of those are more likely to help him than stop him. "Yes?" he asks, not glancing up from the lock he's picking.

"I'm torn between being hurt that you didn't ask me for help and having you learn your lesson by just letting you keep at it," Stray says, striding around to crouch beside him.

The tension in Jason's shoulders bleeds out and he relaxes. Not Dick, then. Good. "And what lesson would that be?"

"That this is the absolutely worst possible way to get into this building if you're not trying to alert every security guard on the premises. It's a bait door. For amateur schmucks who think a museum will be a lot easier to knock over than a bank." Stray reaches over and deftly plucks the lockpicks from Jason's hands before making his way over to where a tangle of ivy is growing up the side of the Gotham Natural History Museum. "Nightwing—sorry, _Batman_ —came to see me about you."

Grumbling, Jason falls into step behind him, willing to concede to Stray's superior knowledge in this particular field of study. "Did he want you to convince me I need a shrink also? He's already tried that line, then had Starfire after me about it when I wouldn't back down."

Stray hums, shifting aside the ivy to reveal a door, this one much sturdier-looking than the one they just left. Sighing, Jason holds the ivy out of the way so Stray has his hands free to get at the lock. "He just wanted me to talk to you. He's says you think Batman's still alive."

"He is!" Jason says fiercely. "He is, but no one believes me, they all think I'm crazy. _You_ think I'm crazy." It shouldn't hurt that Stray's taking Dick's side on this, not when everyone else has, but, well. He'd thought their friendship, the… whatever it is between them meant something. A degree of trust, at least.

"I don't think you're crazy," Stray corrects him. "I think you're hurting and hoping for miracles that may or may not happen. I also think it's stupid of him to not at least give you the benefit of the doubt."

"What, really?" Relief washes over Jason, but it's also tempered but a niggling feeling of doubt. Why on earth does Stray believe him—or, well, at least not _not_ believe him—when no one else will?

"Mmhm. You'd think that someone who's been in the mask and cape game as long as Batman 2.0 would know better than to believe that any hero is well and truly dead. Superman came back, after all." There's a click, and the door swings open. "Where are we headed?" Stray asks, already halfway through the doorway.

"Wherever they keep the local pre-Columbian art," Jason says automatically, following him inside. "He says Superman's non-human and not a good example," he adds, because he already tried that one with Dick.

"Not surprising," Stray says, slinking down the hall like he knows exactly where he's going. Considering how many times Batman and his birds have caught this particular cat pillaging the museum's treasures, he probably does. "I notice he didn't have Arsenal try and talk to you."

"He's… been busy with his own shit," Jason says softly. As much as he's hurting from Bruce's supposed death, from Dick giving Robin to Damian without even asking him first, from Dick _not believing him_ , none of that stacks up to what happened to Roy. To Lian. "He's definitely _not_ the poster child for dealing with grief in a healthy and manageable way right now."

"I only mention it because Green Arrow died a few years back, so you'd think if anyone would get what you Bats are dealing with right now, it's the Arrows."

"Not really the same at all," Jason says. "Green Arrow came back."

"Yes," Stray says, slowing his pace to peer at the small signs labeling each of the doors as they pass them. "Exactly."

"That was… Space stuff and magic. Totally different than this," Jason insists, though the more he thinks about it, maybe not. Darkseid is space stuff, and he must have done _something_ for Bruce to show up in some old painting from the colonial era.

"My understanding was that a lot of the stuff you masks get up to outside of Gotham comes down to 'space stuff and magic.' Not that we don't get some of the latter around here, too." Stray comes to a stop next to a door proclaiming it to be a lab dedicated to the preservation and study of Miagani artifacts and culture.

Jason stares at Stray. "How did you…?"

"You _did_ say local, pre-Columbian art."

"Yes, but—"

The damned cat smirks. "You're looking for Batman, trying to figure out what happened to him, but you don't think it was space stuff or magic, and instead of using a computer or asking a telepath, you're breaking into a museum to look at old Native American art. For a region that was once home to a tribe that, for reasons scholars still haven't been able to discern, suddenly switched from being 'Deer People' to 'Bat People' one day. C'mon, Red, one of my closest friends is something of a detective. I'd like to think I've picked up some tricks from him over the years."

It's not the time or the place, but before Jason can stop himself, he's ducking down and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to that infuriating smirk. He tries to draw back almost immediately after, but a hand on the back of his neck stops him. Jason gulps. "…sorry," he says hoarsely.

"Don't be," Stray whispers, tugging him back down again. The second kiss is nothing like the first, hot and passionate, all lips and tongues and teeth, eating Jason up from the inside and temporarily making him forget exactly where he is, what he's doing. When they draw apart at last, he's more than a little gratified to see that Stray appears just as breathless as he feels. "I've wanted to do that for a long time."

"Me too," Jason admits. He swallows again. "So. I know this is kind of sudden and everything, but do you want to join me on an expedition to try and track down Batman? I'm not sure how, but I think the idiot's gone and gotten himself unstuck in time."

"Well, as long as we don't have to travel to space and rescue him from an alien zoo, I don't think Mama Cat will object."

Jason can't help the chuckle that escapes at that. "Really? Is this the time to be making stupid literary references?"

"You started it," Stray protests, twisting the knob at his back and letting them fall into the dark lab.

"I was merely stating a theory, I wasn't trying to—"

"Shh," Stray says, laying a finger against Jason's lips. "Sneaky time, Red. I know it's been a long time since you put your criminal career on hold, but you must remember that being quiet helps. Unless you want me to gag you?"

"Kinda early to start in on the kinky stuff."

"Red, I wear a catsuit most nights and you literally have your pecs sculpted onto your chest. I don't think it will ever be too early for the kink talk between us."

**Author's Note:**

> Since the beta brought to my attention that not everyone has read it, both the title and the various literary references within the story are from/allude to Kurt Vonnegut's _Slaughterhouse-Five_.
> 
> [I have a tumblr!](http://themandylion.tumblr.com/) Come visit if you want ridiculous AU headcanons, rants about the English language (and/or educational publishing), plague fangirling, adorable baby bats, and veeeeery occasional fanart.


End file.
